


I, Xenophile

by nihilBliss



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Male Character, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, human genitalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilBliss/pseuds/nihilBliss
Summary: A snapshot of your sex life with your matesprit, Mallek Adalov.
Relationships: Mallek Adalov/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32
Collections: HSCCS Promptfest 2020





	I, Xenophile

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [HSCCSPromptfest2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HSCCSPromptfest2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Really looking for any content for my snake ass boy. Maybe him going out to a bar and getting used by multiple highbloods, or perhaps him at his hive jerking off thinking of some crush he has and then they happen to walk in on him moaning there name. The only thing I really require is that sweet sweet mlm content.

Your back hits the metal of the wall of Mallek’s hive as his cool lips catch yours. The temperature difference between this troll’s body and yours sends shivers up your back every time you touch like this. You’re used to it, but that doesn’t change how it affects you. How he affects you. Your hands twist in the fabric of his hoodie, and you pull him tight to you, slipping your tongue between his lips.

He groans – your warmth affects him maybe even more than his coolness affects you. With the way he melts into your embrace, burying himself in your closeness, he feels so vulnerable. You’re only a few inches taller than him, but you might as well tower over him.

Mallek breaks your kiss first, face flushed, eyes lidded and needy.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says. You run your fingers down one of his horns and across his sensitive scalp. He gasps, quivering in your arms.

“I want you so bad,” you say.

He bites his lip and smiles. The feeling, clearly, is mutual. His thumbs trace the lapels of your suit down to the top button, which he slides open with trembling care. Had you not borrowed it from Galekh, he would have torn it wide for quicker access, this you know. But that’s part of the fun, making him slow down when he wants to hurry, when he’s needy.   
Now his hands go lower, fumbling with your belt, separating buttons, lowering the zipper. He reaches in and wraps his hand around the warmth he finds. Your cock twitches as he gives it a possessive squeeze, and you pull him in for another kiss, one hand finding his soft, round butt and claiming it. He squeaks into your kiss, and he grinds his hips against yours.

Both of you know what comes next, but it’s your role, not his, to initiate. So when it comes time, when your penis is so hard it aches, you grab him by both horns and peel him away from your kiss. He whines, breathing heavy, pliant as you guide him to his knees. Does he look more lovely like this, or are you biased because of the way his gaze locks on the bulge in your slacks and the way he licks his lips? You’re probably biased, but he does look so good on his knees.

Mallek slides his fingers into your waistband and pulls your slacks and briefs down to your ankles with a motion, never breaking his gaze with your crotch as your dick springs free. He breathes you in, indulgent in how alien you smell and how comforting that smell has become to him. His lips press against your balls, then against the base of your shaft, then against the head. Because of how sharp his teeth are, he has to be incredibly careful when he blows you, and he is, every time. His tongue and his lips welcome you into his mouth, and he slides down your cock without a scratch or scrape. He takes you all the way without hesitating, licking your balls to make a point.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you say, thumbing the base of one of his horns. He shivers, but he doesn’t break his concentration, bobbing up and down your shaft. His tongue glides all across it, drawing little gasps from you. You groan because he loves to hear how good you feel, and you wrap your fingers around the base of his horn because if you don’t hold onto something you’re going to lose yourself.

With one long lick along the underside of your shaft, he pulls off, and he smiles up at you.

“I love you,” you say, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“I, uh… I love you too,” he says. He stares at your hand, still sheepish about saying what you both know he feels. You wonder at how lucky you are to see this side of him, this bashful boyishness.

“What gave you the right to be this fucking cute?”

He squirms. It’s adorable.

“That = rich coming from you,” he says. “Stupid sexy alien.”

“Stupid sexy matesprit, you mean,” you say. “Do you want me to put it in your nook?”

The answer’s always yes with him – he’s already nodding – but you like asking. He’s shy about the emotional side of your relationship, but he’s very comfortable with the physical stuff. That suits you just fine, you think, as you step out of your slacks and pull your suit coat off.

“Keep it on,” he says, grasping the lapel again.

“Hmm?”

“Just the top half, though,” he says. “It = uh, it looks really good on you.”

Alright, you’re game.

“So let’s focus on getting you naked, huh?”

That’s more his speed. He pulls his hoodie up, and you go for his pants, tugging buttons free of their holes. You pull them down around his knees as he’s struggling to get his hoodie over his horns when you have a terrible idea that you can’t help but watch happen even before you’ve decided to make it happen. Unbidden, your arms push him, and he squawks. He stumbles blind until his legs hit the arm of his couch, and he falls onto its cushions, face up.

“What the fuck?!” he swears, wrestling himself free of his hoodie. 

But before he can move, you’re on him, holding his ankles above his ears, exposing the blue of his cock, the gray of his balls, and the crack of his ass. The rush of submission hits him, and he gasps, helping you pull his pants the rest of the way off. You snatch the lube bottle he keeps on the table and drizzle it onto two fingers, rubbing them together to warm it. With care, you slide a slick fingertip into him, then another. His hole welcomes you, the warmest part of him. He whines as you penetrate him little by little, taking your time to stretch him out. It isn’t like you need to, though. He’s already ready to take every inch of you. But those sounds he makes, and the way he pushes back, so needy, just makes it all the better when you start to fuck him.

He grabs his bulge and strokes himself, slow and steady, a little stimulation but not nearly enough. A blue blush covers his face and extends down his chest. You grab one of his chest piercings and tug, just a little. His whole body bucks, and he can’t help but stroke himself a little harder.

“Please fuck me,” he says. “Oh, baby, please!”

For a split second, you debate teasing him a little more. But the way your cock throbs says its time. 

“Hold yourself open for me?” you ask. 

Mallek complies, pulling his cheeks wide. You pull your fingers out and pour lube into your palm, giving it a moment to warm up before you smear it along the length of your cock. For his hole, pulled just barely open, drizzle some in straight from the bottle. He shivers at the chill, and he bites his lip in that too-cute way.

Whatever force brought you to this planet, you’re glad for it, if only because you met him.

You situate yourself with the head of your cock pressed against his glistening entrance, and you sink into him, slowly, hands holding his ankles by his ears. He trills from deep in his core, one of the more alien sounds his body makes. The vibration settles deep in your bones, and you resonate with him. When you lift your hips and press back into his warmth, that trill becomes almost musical, a song from his core that weaves the two of you together. You plant a kiss on his forehead, still not quite able to meet his lips, and you let the music move you as you move in him.

He’s warmer inside than anywhere else – not quite as warm as you, but warmer than the rest of him. The way his nook squeezes your dick, you’d never felt anything like it on Earth. It’s almost as dexterous as his hand, tight and slick. With every thrust, it milks your cock. There was a time you pretended to be dignified during sex, but with him, it was never an option – you groan and whine every time you bury yourself in him. You harmonize with that song that links your bodies. Every scrap of your body sings hallelujah.

“I’m so fucking...” he whines, panting, at the top of his voice. You lean back, and you wrap your hand around his bulge, stroking as you fuck him with vigor. Balls slap against the soft skin of his ass. He’s pulsing in your hand. Fuck, you can feel how close he is, in your hand and in his body and in everything you see in him, long beyond visible and into the essence of him and you and this amazing moment you’re in.

He squeals, and it reverberates through those parts deep in his body, then deep into you. You feel it in your marrow as he comes, a sensation your body doesn’t have the parts to process properly. His bulge jumps, squirting gobs of cerulean onto him. And then, sudden and inevitable as a storm, your own pleasure clicks over, and you’re past the point of no return. With a few ragged thrusts, you climax deep inside of him. He gasps and shudders, humping against your length, nook milking every drop of your seed out of you.

You stay there for a moment, watching his face as he comes back to ground, before your legs tire. So you pull out and flop onto the floor, dick slick with lube and going flaccid fast. He rolls off of the couch and crawls onto your chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re great,” he says. “You’re really, really great.”

Your fingers find their home in his hair. His body warms up so much after you fuck. It’s one of your favorite parts of the afterglow, just feeling him against you like this. He looks up, and he captures your lips in a kiss, patient and honest. You know that if you fall asleep here, your back will hate you in the morning, but it’s so tempting to just stay right where you are, like this.

“I think there = cum on the shirt,” he says.

Oh yeah. Shit. You borrowed this outfit.

“That’s rude of us,” you say. “It’ll probably stain.”

“I know a good cleaner. He’ll never know what we did.”

You laugh. It’s hard to say how many footnotes deep he’d go if you returned his suit with cum stains on it. That’d be funny.

“Then I should probably take it off, huh?”

Mallek smiles wide, kissing you again.

“Not yet,” he says. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

So you stayed there.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by Seers


End file.
